


Sympathy For The Devil

by tuathafaerie (Belphoebe)



Category: Bleach
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance, Way too much symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29726964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belphoebe/pseuds/tuathafaerie
Summary: Orihime is learning that the devil does not need pomegranates or tricks to steal possession of her heart, only one simple question. In between dreams he is teaching her this.
Relationships: Inoue Orihime/Ishida Uryuu, Ulquiorra Cifer/Inoue Orihime
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Sympathy For The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Found some of my old work that I thought was lost, so I am reposting it here.

** Sympathy for the Devil **

_I lived alone; my mind was blank.  
I needed time to think to get the memories from my mind.  
What did I see? Could I believe  
That what I saw that night was real and not just fantasy?  
Just what I saw in my old dreams,  
Were they reflections of my warped mind staring back at me?_

\- Iron Maiden, _"The Number of the Beast"_

* * *

It was dangerous, she knew.

Orihime ran a slow hand up the side of the dress she wore and watched her doppelganger in the mirror before her do the same, skimming light fingers over silky green curves. It was a beautiful gown, and Orihime had selected from a rack of stunning slips of fabric as the only dress worthy enough to wear to Tatsuki's induction ball into the police force. Tatsuki, after all, was her best friend, who had stood beside her even when Orihime had faltered in that friendship, with loyalty unwavering, and the young woman in the dressing room was determined to support her friend as best she could at this formal affair. Keigo, to often even his endless surprise, would be the one escorting her best friend, but Orihime would stand on the other side with a proud smile.

In her beautiful green dress that she was having sudden second thoughts about.

And these thoughts were dangerous. He had sworn it would only be three months, she had promised him only her winters, and here it was almost April!

All because this green so perfectly matched those laconic eyes, Ulquiorra's…

The zipper came down with an abrupt yank, nearly catching fabric in its teeth with the savage pull, but Orihime didn't care. Her chest heaved with a sudden tightness and certainty that she would be returning this gown to the rack.

How could she stand beside Tatsuki when, if she wore this dress, her every thought would be focused on another? She kicked the crumpled fabric beside her in swift bitterness before snatching it up and tossing it onto the hanger. Quickly, Orihime yanked on her own clothes before rushing out of the store, the dress still swinging with the force of her dismay in the small back room.

There were other places to shop in Karakura.

* * *

_In the spaces between sleeping and waking, where there was no room for rationality, she relived the past. It had started only months after the war ended, with flashes of white at the edge of her vision and a low voice that was achingly familiar, but it had evolved, in the six years since then, into full blown dreamscapes. She would find herself again in the room she had known for only a week, staring up through the metal bars and up at the moon that never seemed to set in this empty desert._

_Behind her, unfailingly, he stood, her jailor. Sometimes watching her, sometimes not. Sometimes leaning against the wall, sometimes so close that if she leaned back she could rest her head against his shoulders. Sometimes he was silent._

_Sometimes he spoke._

_"Do you believe your friends are still fighting for you?"_

_"Yes," Orihime would reply, her voice even and strong._

_"No matter their determination, they will be unable to win against Aizen."_

_"You're wrong," her words would float back, assured, knowing even if she couldn't explain it. Mixed into this out-of-time sequence were the memories of the end of the war, of the end of the traitorous shinigami. He would lose._

_"These weak, human emotions will be their downfall."_

_"Our feelings make us strong." But the assertion was softer this time, because she had memories of that time above the world, when it seemed as if her entire life was turned upside down by that monstrous creature that had once been Kurosaki. By her fear she had striped him of his humanity. She tried not to feel things too deeply nowadays._

_Relentlessly, Ulquiorra continued._

_"Woman, where is your heart?"_

_And she never failed to shiver. This was the question she hated the most. She should have said "with my friends" or "back home in Karakura," but both were lies. She couldn't even manage the anatomically correct "in my chest." It was her metaphysical heart he sought. In this stolen moment caught between consciousness, Orihime knew with an innate certainty that this illusionary Ulquiorra would sense when she spoke falsehoods. And so she stayed quiet, unwilling to speak her feared truth: that in these stolen interludes her heart was tucked quite firmly into the sands of Las Noches._

_Behind her, on these nights he spoke, he would shift quietly, his robes brushing her hair if he was standing close enough as he turned, and stride calmly to the door. He would pause there, and she would hold her breath in the heart-beating curiosity of just where exactly his gaze had lodged – could it have been her? She wasn't brave enough to look back and discover the truth – and the moment would extend for as long as she drifted on the surface of sleep._

_And then a breeze would ruffle past her as he opened and closed the door behind him, the alarm on her clock would buzz, and Orihime would find herself awake in her own bed, a whole world away._

* * *

"I'm going away for a week," Ishida announced as the waitress set down their drinks and left. Orihime glanced up, surprised. They were sitting in a small café nearby his father's hospital sharing lunch – it had become a Tuesday habit in the last month, since that was the day she met with the chief heart specialist to go over the textbook he was writing – and usually Ishida kept the conversation purposefully light and friendly when they went out together. They discussed personal matters on her sofa or at his apartment, as if he were too afraid that their new relationship would dissolve into air if he acted like it was real outside of a room that would trap the emotions and wait for him to gather them up again.

They had been dating for three months. Orihime felt she needed to reassure him that she wasn't just going to drift off like a helium balloon if he relaxed in public. But she'd been trying for weeks to get the words out and just couldn't seem to scrape together the sincerity needed. So she answered with the naivety that had become her nonchalance, smiling at him without involving her eyes. "Really? Has your father given you permission to attend the seminar in Osaka?"

"He agreed that it had the potential to improve surgical technique," Ishida returned evenly, sipping at the tea that had been set before him.

Slowly, Orihime let her smile grow smaller but more real. She could see by the set of his shoulders that Ishida was proud that his father had recognized his skill in the medical field – all of those years perfecting his sewing hadn't been useless after all, since he was by far the fastest and cleanest stitch in the hospital – and she was genuinely happy for him. Ishida and his father had barely been on speaking terms when her friend had decided to go to medical school after high school ended, and they had taken years to patch things up.

"I'm glad." She took a large gulp of her soda before continuing. "You'll probably learn a lot. But if they teach you how to embroider you initials on your patients, you have to show me. I haven't figured out how to make cat gut embroidery look decent."

The black haired young man in front of her laughed quietly. "You know Shintani would be the first in line to learn that," he replied rueful, mentioning the specialist she was working with as an editor. "He'll want all his patients wearing little badges of his success on their hearts."

As if in pretend sympathy, Orihime's own pulse fluttered. It was getting worse, she realized, if even the word could shake her.

"When are you headed out?" she asked quickly, hiding her nerves in distracting conversation.

A long finger pushed his glasses up his nose. "Ah, about that. Unfortunately, Inoue-san," he was always so formal in public, and in return she could never manage to think of him with his first name, so she never made an issue of it, "I need to take the shinkansen this afternoon since the seminar starts tomorrow morning. That means we'll have to cancel for dinner this evening. I'm sorry to give you such late notice."

This evening, when she would have gone and had dinner at Ishida's for the first time since they had begun dating, subjecting her to not just minutes worked in around the edges but possibly hours of personal conversation. Orihime's stomach trembled, clenched, and relaxed, and she smoothed a smile onto her lips. "That's okay, Ishida-kun. This is more important." And it would give her a reprieve. There was only so long she could continue this relationship while still holding her emotions slightly apart, and eventually she would either have to commit herself and face her fears and hope she didn't corrupt the bright light who was her boyfriend or she would have to disappoint his affection with her refusal.

In response, a small smile blossomed onto Ishida's face, and Orihime felt a sharp pinch of pain somewhere to the left of her sternum. One day she would cry over this man, she was certain, though she didn't know whether it would be good or bad.

* * *

_He was across the room that evening, not quite leaning against the wall. Orihime didn't have to turn to feel his presence; it saturated the room. But, with effort, she ignored him, instead fixing her attention solely upon the moon, its radiant light cascading through the square window and illuminating her in a cage without bars. She usually liked watching the moon in her dreams. It was a reassuring constant._

_Unlike Ulquiorra, who was an unnerving constant._

_But her disquiet stilled when he remained silent, and she found herself relaxing and fiddling with her sleeve in idle motions, wondering why exactly it was that she was doomed to never dream of anything but this room. For someone with such an overactive imagination, it certainly felt like a confining destiny._

_Then he shifted and her momentary peace drifted away. She should have known it was too good to be true._

_"Why are you here?"_

_"My boyfriend's out of town so I went to bed early," she replied before she could think of it, even think to question why his normal pattern of inquiry had changed or why he even cared. As her words settled into the quiet room, she reasoned that she must have cued the modification with her recent thoughts and dismissed it. He never seemed to listen to what she said anyway._

_"The one who wouldn't kill me or the one who couldn't?"_

_Orihime let her heartbeat break into a sprint. It was the least she could do, she figured, since she doubted neither he nor her dream would let her run away from him. Barely, she resisted the urge to turn around in surprise and dismay._

_"…well?"_

_Fighting shivers, she thought back to that battle atop the dome, pieced together his meaning, and forced a reply. "C-couldn't." A surge of vicarious humiliation threatened to bubble up in her stomach, but she stirred it back down with the knowledge that without Ishida, they would have surely failed as well._

_Steady footsteps sounded on the hard floor until they stopped next to her. Out of the corner of her eye Orihime could see them, those green eyes that slanted in her direction as his head tilted in his one frequent display of curiosity. Ulquiorra's voice came out smooth, low, and with just the edge of his ever present confidence._

_"Woman, where is your heart?"_

_And she should have replied "with Ishida" or "in Osaka" or even "beneath my ribs" but she didn't – couldn't – because none of them were true. She was sure in that moment that if she had possessed her heart it might have just shattered in sympathy she wasn't free to give. The quiet stretched between them once more._

_And, above her, the moon turned into a giant pearl cast before swine._

* * *

Tatsuki surprised her three weeks later in May with a box of party decorations. It was plopped down heavily in the middle of Orihime's desk with no warning, crushing the manuscript Orihime was currently editing and causing her to squeak in alarm. Tatsuki, wiping a thin sheen of sweat off her forehead, grinned in reply.

"Thought I'd come by and ask you for some help on your lunch break – well, it's closer to dinner now – because I really don't know how Keigo expects me to finish all of this by tomorrow by myself."

Orihime glanced at the digital clock pinned on the wall in front of her, found that it was indeed nearly four thirty, and proceeded to peer into the box. "Setting up for Kojima-kun's birthday?"

The dark haired policewoman pulled a face that gave way to a rueful smile. "Keigo is insisting that it has to be the best surprise party ever. I think he just wants an excuse to break into Mizuiro's house and rifle through his things. He's been holding out on introducing us to his new girlfriend, and my idiot boyfriend thinks it must be because she's younger than him."

With a soft giggle, Orihime shifted the box and retrieved her papers, smoothing out the wrinkles that had been creased into the top page. "Let me just clean up my desk and talk to my supervisor about leaving early, and I'll see if we can't go back to my place and finish that up."

Tatsuki nodded in acquiescence and Orihime quickly filed away her pens and paperwork before going up to the chief editor's desk. With a few words between them, she was waved off with a smile and quickly returned to where her best friend was hefting the box back into her arms.

Lifting a few of the heavier items out of the box, Orihime walked with her friend down to the subway, carefully dodging the rush of evening traffic as they descended to the platform to wait for the next car to come hissing in. "Did you want to pick up something to eat on the way in, or did you want me to cook?" the lighter haired girl asked, glancing over.

"I think we'd better get something," Tatsuki replied, adjusting her grip on the cardboard. "I don't want to consider the state of your pantry. When was the last time you went grocery shopping?"

"Just two days ago."

"That's what I was afraid of," the karate expert replied with a joking smile. "Let's stop by that soba shop on your corner and grab some takeout." She turned at the sound of the subway car arriving and the two girls made their way inside, Tatsuki lucky enough to snag a seat and set the box down just as the car jerked into motion. Orihime, following her gesture, gratefully added her burden to the top of the stack once more.

In the florescent lighting above, a band of gold glittered from around her wrist.

Tatsuki's eyes focused with interest. "Oh? That's new, isn't it?" She glanced up at Orihime's face and watched the brown eyes narrow in confusion before flicking down to her arm. Tatsuki grinned with a teasing air. "Is it from Uryuu-kun?"

But instead of a pretty blush and a stammering confession, this comment received only Orihime's bitten lip and darting eyes. Hastily, her arm was withdrawn and swung behind her body.

"It's an old gift," she gave as explanation, when her friend looked surprised and concerned.

Instantly, Tatsuki's expression resolved into saddened comprehension, and Orihime managed a faint quirk of her mouth in the upwards direction when she felt the kind hand reach out and touch her arm in sympathy. She knew that her best friend thought it had been a present from her brother, and Orihime couldn't bring herself to correct the assumption.

Because what would Tatsuki think when she told her that this was the bracelet Ulquiorra had given her before he kidnapped her? Especially, Orihime thought morosely as she watched her fingers meet their mirror image in the darkened door window of the car, as the little metal band no longer blocked reiatsu and therefore had no value to her except sentiment.

* * *

_His eyes, like Tatsuki's in the subway, fixed instantly upon her wrist._

_"I couldn't throw it away," Orihime found herself saying, her right hand coming up to cover the golden bracelet protectively. It was the first thing that had ever appeared differently in the room, and she suspected that it was because this was the first time she had ever worn the piece of jewelry to bed. Though why she had never been dressed in her pajamas, which she also wore to bed, was a circumstance she could not explain._

_When he said nothing, she added a bleated, "It seemed expensive!" and then wondered whether mortification would allow her to sink into the ground or if it would strand her on the surface. If Ulquiorra ever paid for anything the world would probably stop._

_If Aizen did, it would probably explode._

_"It's very pretty," she conceded after a while, when he didn't proceed to mock her for rank stupidity. "When it became just a bracelet I thought I'd keep it safe just in case. And I like the chain that connects it, that was a really smart design, so that it can fit anyone's wrist, and-"_

_"Woman," he interrupted, cutting off her rambling without raising his voice, "did you want to have a conversation tonight?"_

_A conversation, Orihime thought stupidly, her mind tumbling over itself as it evaluated what she had been doing. Was that a conversation? She hadn't really been saying anything substantial - there wasn't even much interaction - so how could that truly be a conversation? If she said yes, would he revoke his laconic tendencies and actually respond and expand upon what she said? She knew from experience that, however much he hid it away, Ulquiorra liked to talk. Especially when he was intrigued by something. He would circle all his comments around that topic until he got an answer._

_And suddenly Orihime wasn't so sure she wanted to talk at all, no matter how uncomfortable his silence or his gaze. Because if there was one thing her captor would be sure to discuss, it was the one question she hated from him. Where was her heart indeed? Why couldn't she find the strength needed to discover the truth? Why couldn't she lie and stop his questions entirely?_

_Secretly, she suspected Ulquiorra knew the reasons, and that he knew exactly where her heart really lay, and that he asked only for verbal confirmation from her._

_So stubbornly, Orihime remained silent._

* * *

Kojima's birthday surprise went well without a hitch – Keigo was even lucky enough to catch him bringing his girlfriend home, and if the girl was a day over twenty, well, even Orihime would be surprised – and while there were several rude remarks from Kojima's end at the beginning of the night, by midnight enough alcohol had been parceled out to mellow everyone and the entire group was in high spirits. Kurosaki had gotten into a friendly card tournament with Tatsuki, Kuchiki, and Ishida. Kojima had forgiven Keigo and was now laughing quietly as his friend dug a tie out of his closet and strung it around his head before belting out bad karaoke on the old system he had brought over. Abarai was facing off against Madarame in an arm wrestling competition while Ayasegawa and Keigo's sister, Mizuho, watched, both cheering for the same man. And out of the corner of her eye, Orihime watched in pleasant surprise as Karin, Kurosaki's younger sister, leaned over and gave Sado a peck on the cheek. The Mexican blushed a bright red but didn't say anything against it, and so Orihime kept her smile to herself. She caught sight of Yuzu tittering in the kitchen and thought that perhaps this was not a new thing.

"And you've known Mizuiro since high school?"

"That's right," Orihime replied with a bright smile as she turned her attention back to the girl sitting next to her. In her second year of college, Arima Hana was a petite, sandy haired young girl who Kojima had met at the coffee shop where she worked. "We were in the same class in first year, and he's one of Kurosaki-kun's good friends, so we've hung out a lot since then. Plus," she added, laughing lightly, "when he came along with Keigo and Tatsuki, I didn't feel like the third wheel and also didn't spend the whole evening getting hit on. I'm glad we're friends."

Arima's cheeks gained a pretty dusting of pink. "He's a really nice guy. You know he holds the door open for all the old ladies at the shop? Mizuiro's a real gentleman."

Glancing over at the subject himself, still laughing at Keigo's antics, Orihime wryly decided to keep his old dating habits to herself. After all, perhaps Arima meant truly old women, grandmother aged women, instead of the middle aged housewives Kojima had spent most of his high school career pursuing.

"It's so nice having an older boyfriend," Arima continued, taking Orihime's continued silence as tacit agreement to her previous statement. "They're totally mature, and they know how to protect you from all those leeches that are my age. Don't you agree?"

"Hmm?" The bustier woman tuned back in abruptly, her fantasy of Kojima growing bent and gray and older than _every_ woman – oh, the irony – dissipating in the wave of the question. "Agree?"

The small girl next to her nodded seriously. "Oh, yes. I'm sure he's the mature and quiet type. I'll bet he spends a whole lot of time looking out for you. Especially since you're so pretty!"

"Well…" Orihime equivocated, her gaze dropping down and to the right. He certainly spent a lot of time _looking_ at her. Though she supposed, now that she thought of it, he did look after her well enough for that week.

Arima let her expression turn triumphant. "I knew it. Ishida-kun definitely seems like that kind of guy!"

In her stomach, Orihime felt something heavy drop and thud. "Ishida-kun," she repeated numbly.

The girl in front of her glanced over at the dark haired young man, currently laying down his hand of rummy with a mocking smile at his best friend. "I saw it when I came in, how he kept hovering right beside you."

"Ishida-kun is younger than me," Orihime replied hollowly, managing to scrounge up a rueful smile for the girl, letting her thoughts mire and stick in her soul, where she refused to let them see the light of day.

Was it so terrible that she had failed to notice Ishida's attention that a stranger had clearly picked up on? And was it natural to think of dreams first and reality second?

* * *

_They did not speak that night. Orihime didn't think she could handle it, not with the guilt her conversation at the party had inflicted still so fresh. Staring at the moon, she no longer wished that she might find her heart where it was supposed to be, entrenched into her current life, but only that she might find her heart period, so that she could retrieve it and give it to people who, while she may not love them, certainly deserved it._

_Behind her, Ulquiorra's green eyes burned into the empty hole in her chest._

* * *

She put more focus into her relationships after that. Maybe simulating deep and meaningful emotions would slowly turn them into real ones, Orihime rationalized. After all, didn't people always say that you felt happier by just smiling? Going through the motions was the first step in tricking the brain.

So she spent more time with Tatsuki, knowing that at least this friendship and affection was very real because it had been around for such a very long time and had been fully established before even the reason for her doubts had appeared. They went to lunch together and starting having girls' night once a week again and were basically the very image of the best friends they had been for all these years. In this relationship, Orihime could take strength.

She concentrated on her dates with Ishida, trying to keep her mind from wandering off and fantasizing about both small, inconsequential, and innocent things and human shaped, heart stuttering, and life changing things, knowing that Ishida deserved the best she could give him. They went to dinner more than once a week, partly to make up for the loss of their weekly lunch date since the book Orihime had been working on with the heart specialist was finished but also partly because she felt it would be healthy for any spark of love she was trying to ignite between them. She attended hospital events with him, smiling like a beautiful star and he took her to their friends' houses and doted on her without hovering. But still Orihime knew the truth. In this relationship, she could only take unease because she knew it was unequal and unbalanced, and no matter how she writhed in desperation, she could never match Ishida's weight or intensity.

And so she turned to her other friends in her free hours, using up all the extra time she had to think on them. She found Keigo and joked with him over a new monk in the shrine down the street that his sister was crazy about. She walked with Sado as he took the dog he had adopted two years ago out for exercise and chatted quietly about the weather and the changes to their school after they had left. She ran into Kojima and his new girlfriend at the coffee shop and spent an hour watching them be saccharine to one another. She caught Kuchiki on her way back to the Seireitei and trained with her for a whole weekend, working hard until she collapsed down on the grass in exhaustion and then sharing a drink and watching the clouds with her friend. And she let Kurosaki walk her home one evening, when she visited the Kurosaki clinic for her annual checkup, and leaned quietly on his arm for two whole minutes as they stopped in front of her apartment.

"Inoue, are you okay?" Kurosaki finally asked. His voice was quiet and his shoulders relaxed, but his words held more than just a small whisper of concern. He couldn't have known what was bothering her. It was impossible since she hadn't voiced it to anyone, but his sixth sense had always been particularly strong and she felt it turned with an intensity upon her.

"...I think I might have misplaced my heart," she found herself saying, her head tilting upwards as she stared at her window from the street.

The boy beside her shifted slightly in her direction before chuckling and nudging her. "Hey, don't rub it in about Ishida. I know you guys are doing great and I don't need _both_ of you bragging about it."

She didn't pay attention to his words, wrinkling her brow in thought instead. "Do you hate the people you've fought with?"

"What?" This time he seemed confused. "No, come on, that was years ago. I'm telling you, I think Ishida's a great guy, a little uptight sometimes, but we're friends. I'm happy for you."

"No, that's not..." with frustration, she let her comment drop into nothing. He just didn't understand, he couldn't, it wasn't in him to worry about things the same way she did, she had known that years ago and yet, _and yet_ , she still found herself needing his comfort, relying on his strength. Valiantly, Orihime pulled herself up and removed her weight from his arm, but the question slipped out anyway, against her better intentions and her determination to resume solving her own problems, because in this she was frightened and confused and lost, and she felt like she was a teenager all over again with only one poor boy standing between her and total capitulation.

"Do you think it's possible to love someone you've fought against?"

The question was so soft that Kurosaki leaned closer as the words slipped out, but when she finished, he shook his head with a sigh. His hand came up to rest on her shoulder. "Inoue," he said, and she fortified herself on his tone and looked towards him expectantly, "don't worry. Any fight you had with Ishida can be fixed. Just talk to him. The guy really loves you, I'm sure he'll forgive you for anything."

 _Except this_ , Orihime's empty breast beat out in sinuous rhythm to her. But she raised a tremulous smile in reply and thanked Kurosaki-kun for his advice, quietly left him, and entered her apartment.

* * *

_When she slept that night, the dream was different. Not in subtle ways, but in big, setting changing ways. She stood on the path she had taken from Soul Society, the grass beneath her feet and the tall walls stretching up beside her. It was the path she had recently taken with Rukia, the one that had taken her months, maybe even a year, to travel again after that one time. Her pulse sped up as she noticed what she was wearing. Her old school uniform. But there were no shinigami guards this time beside her. She was alone on this path._

_For only two minutes. Then the air beside her shimmered and fractured with his voice._

_"It seems you're unaware of the fact that you're at your most vulnerable when you're traveling."_

_The portal opened and there he was, in that perfectly crisp white hakama, hands tucked carefully in his pockets, and surrounded by darkness. The helmeted head tilted slightly at her, examining her appearance, as if reacquainting himself with her outfit._

_"I'm dreaming," she stated unnecessarily, noting that his words had changed with the other adjustments in her vision._

_"It's the same thing," he said without malice. Cold, but calm. He stepped forward and the rift in space closed behind him._

_A hand came out of his pocket as he neared her and pointed at her chest before drifting its target down to her wrist. She shivered at the gesture. "You've been tiring yourself out."_

_Swallowing harshly, she answered. "I haven't wanted to dream."_

_"Neither," he started, and then stopped abruptly, with a blink. It was the first time she had heard him leave a sentence incomplete, he usually delivered his lines after thoroughly thinking them out or on such a rush of fury that they poured without surcease until he finished. It felt now as if he had cut off mid thought, as if he had reconsidered the idea, and it made him seem softer somehow, more real, less like a monster and more like a human. A prickling ran down her spine at the idea and Orihime told her subconscious to please stay out of this, but it completed the thought anyway, that perhaps he had originally intended to continue with a_ "have I." _But that made no sense._

_The hand remained pointed at her wrist. "You will leave that on," he said instead of finishing his previous statement. And she knew instantly, without really understanding how, that he had appeared tonight in this way because this afternoon was the first time she had worn the bracelet in weeks. It had been a momentary weakness on her part, a lapse in judgment after her talk with Kurosaki, and she had not removed it as she got ready for bed and crawled between the sheets._

_"W-when I have to shower..." she started helplessly, wondering why she didn't just take it off now and throw it at his feet._

_"Understand, woman," he interrupted, "that this is not a negotiation." But he didn't say it was an order either, and her stunned mind did not acknowledge the faint whispers from where her heart should have been that perhaps it was a request. Green eyes read her shock and increased it as only he could. "Have you discovered where your heart is yet?"_

_She recoiled nervously, skidding back a few paces and staggering slightly on the loose grass. Her blood pounded in her ears as she stared at him. Why, oh why, did he ask that question so frequently? And with no moon to stare at tonight, she could not ignore him like she usually did. Instead she was pinned by his gaze. "I..." she began and could not finish. The_ "I don't know" _lodged in her throat._

_Slowly, the hand returned to his side before extending again, palm up. "Come with me, woman."_

_"I can't," she whispered, staring at his thin but deadly fingers._

_He waited for a moment, as if giving her a chance to change her mind, then let the hand drop elegantly. The portal opened up again as he turned, cracking the air around them and yawning open. His chin turned slightly towards her as he walked through, letting his parting words project in her direction._

_"Then I will come to you."_

* * *

She tried after that, she really did, but by the middle of June she realized that the day she had feared was finally coming. She hadn't dreamt of Ulquiorra in over a week, she spent more times with her friends than she had since high school, and her job was in its busy season. But the evening that she dreaded approached nevertheless. Tatsuki was excited and insisted on helping her find an outfit. Even though the karate expert wasn't fond of shopping, she eagerly went through the aisles with Orihime, dragging her along to the evening dresses and pulling out gown after gown to hold up and press onto her best friend.

"Hrm, I think this one might be good. I really can't tell without you trying them on – I certainly could never wear it! - ha, but it might work with your figure." A blue slinky thing was added to the growing pile Orihime had in her arms.

"Tatsuki," Orihime said worriedly, hoisting the dresses higher as she followed the young woman to the next rack. "One of these should be fine, really. It's not that big of a party."

The dark haired woman looked at her as if she were crazy. "Orihime, seriously, Uryuu-kun invited you to the dinner where they're announcing he's the assistant chair of surgery. It's an important night for him. And it might just be an important night for you, too," she added with a secretive smile, adding a soft taupe creation to the stack.

And Orihime feared it would be, but for a different reason altogether. She let Tatsuki shuffle her into the dressing room and faithfully modeled every dress that came her way, but she put her foot down against the elegant yet revealing red evening gown that her best friend suggested she get and instead settled for a purple cocktail dress that ended around her knees. They returned to Orihime's apartment and Tatsuki stayed until she felt Orihime's makeup was perfect.

As it was, Orihime only had about thirty minutes to herself before Ishida arrived. The young doctor was dressed handsomely in a tailored suit and he smiled at her with affection before escorting her to the car parked by the curb of her apartment. "You look very nice tonight," he complimented as he opened the door for her and helped her into the seat.

"Thank you," Orihime replied, feeling her smile sink into that one that had become her defense. "You look very nice as well." Too nice, she felt, for simply a dinner at the hospital, and she fretted and wondered how she was ever going to get through the night. But there was nothing for it now except to square her shoulders and stumble onwards.

The car started up with a muffled purr and they rolled away from her safe haven and into the evening that she had never wanted to see. Ishida and she were seated at a table near his father, but not too close, and so her boyfriend was able to relax and enjoy the meal without worries. The plaque they gave him as they honored him for being the youngest surgeon to ever be promoted to assistant of the department was truly lovely, a simple and yet elegant creation of maple and metal, and the claps that resounded in the hall were only outshone by the genuine smile that crossed Ishida Ryuuken's face. Orihime was honestly proud of Ishida, and held her smile in place as he gave his thank you speech with the normal platitudes. They finished socializing near midnight, and Ishida shook hands with his father and the head of surgery before leaving with Orihime.

The walk back to the car through the parking garage was a quiet one, with only her heels lending a consistent rhythm as they tapped across the concrete. She knew she should say something, if only to fill up the gap, but she could feel it looming, those words she knew were coming, and they stopped her inconsequential chatter like nothing else could. She remained silent as Ishida helped her into the car again, put his plaque into the back seat, and got behind the wheel. With a lack of better inspiration, she pretended to doze on the way back to her apartment, although she could feel the man beside her glance in her direction several times. But when they arrived at her door there was nothing left she could do.

Kindly, Ishida saw her to her front door and lingered as she felt in her purse for the key. His hand closed over her braceleted wrist as she snagged the ring and he held her there, staring into her eyes as he seemed to review the words before opening his mouth.

"Orihime," he said, and there was a purpose in his tone even as he said her first name, a rarity in their relationship. "Orihime," he repeated, "I love you." His head dipped slightly and she let him kiss her lightly but did not return the gesture. He pulled back, a small question in his eyes, but nevertheless reached for his pocket.

And Orihime saw the action and an unwilling sob escaped her mouth. She knew what was coming, Tatsuki had been too obvious and Ishida too anxious that she come to this dinner, and she couldn't let him go through with it. Because she had never managed to tell him, that she wasn't a helium balloon and wouldn't float away if he didn't hold on tightly, she had never even managed to return his affectionate words with more than half-hearted agreements, and now he was trying to tie himself more tightly to her when she wasn't even sure he had her in the first place.

The box emerged into the hallway light before she managed to catch his arm and they stood for a few moments, each holding the other tightly and staring, she with remorse and he with confusion and yet a lingering knowledge of a half forgotten memory when she had reached out and grasped nothing but ash, before she managed to get the words out. "I...I'm sorry, Ishida-kun." She had tried to convince herself that it was okay, that she would learn with time to produce a facsimile of her heart just for him, but the true Orihime was an honest person and she could not allow herself to string him along.

"Inoue." His hand tightened around her wrist for a few seconds before he pulled away, and she let her own grip loosen and fall. The box remained between them, unopened. "I _do_ love you," he said eventually, his face a mixture of longing and bitter knowledge. If she gave any encouragement, he would propose anyway and convince her to accept, convince her he was fine with any kind of unfairness or suffering she would inflict upon him just so long as she agreed to stay by his side.

Watching his silent desperation, Orihime knew she couldn't give him anything at all. "I know," she said instead, quietly, knowing that a part of her, somewhere, loved him for loving her so dearly, but also knowing that it was not and would never be enough. "Thank you, but I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

And slowly, as if it had never been, the box returned to his pocket and disappeared. Like a man possessed, he turned from her, walking woodenly back to the top of her stairs. There he paused, as if contemplating the descent, and finally looked back at her. The painful twist of his lips that he obviously wanted to be a smile but could never qualify was summoned for her benefit and he managed four words. "Don't worry about it." Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone, though Orihime could hear the thunk of his shoes down the steps for almost a minute.

Staring after him she wondered how much it had cost him to say those words. And, as she unlocked her door, stripped herself of the dress and threw it in the trash, climbed into bed, and cried, she both hoped and feared that it had been all the love he had for her.

* * *

_The moon was both a respite and a taunt as she stared up at it that evening. So perfectly full, its purity seemed only to enhance her own ugliness in her mind, but the constancy of it was a comfort that she could not deny. She kept her eyes glued to it, as if she would sink into darkness if she but looked away._

_The presence at her back materialized and she knew her other constant was here. For a moment, she took comfort in that as well, that she would not be the only monster in the room, before she returned to her celestial focus._

_"Woman," he said with an almost surprised tone, and something soft brushed against the floor. She heard it sweep again as he came closer. "You've been crying."_

_"Yes," she agreed, uncaring if she started a conversation with him, uncaring if he decided to interrogate her about all the things she hated to discuss. Because what she had just done was far worse. "I broke up with my boyfriend tonight."_

_But, instead of the mocking words that she expected, the petty designations of who had the power to kill him, Ulquiorra ignored her statement. "You're still wearing the bracelet." Behind it, unspoken, lingered the assertion, '_ good. _'_

_"I didn't feel like fighting with you about it," she replied, and the chuckle followed startled her as she realized it came from her own lips. "Arguing with my dreams. Do you think I'm going crazy?" she finished quietly, wanting to turn back and look at him but at the same time unwilling to let go of the lunar lifesaver above her._

_Again he ignored her, letting her question fall into silence. She wondered if this was mental punishment she was inflicting upon herself, that even Ulquiorra would find her too disgusting to converse with._

_It came as a shock when his hand grasped her wrist, the exact same place Ishida had touched her only hours before, and lifted her arm upwards. "You inactivated it."_

_"W-what?" She took in a heady breath and smelt faint traces of familiar smoke, the dust that had drifted across the top of that dome, but Ulquiorra remained silent. Instead he lifted her wrist further, as if examining it carefully, and she could see the tips of her fingers now in her peripheral vision. "What are you looking for?" she asked hesitantly, afraid that there was something wrong, or that perhaps he could see just how terrible a person she was by just looking at her._

_The speed at which she was spun about caught her off guard as he swiftly laid her hand against his chest, just below the hole, and she gasped as he came into view, his one sided helmet replaced with horns and the familiar thick streaks dripping down from his eyes. Underneath her palm, his bare chest tensed slightly, but he kept her hand firmly in position, hiding the darkness that descended from his hollow hole. Around her wrist, his fingers were the ones that she had failed to grasp before, whole and strong. She realized, suddenly, that it must have been the tail she had heard earlier sweeping across the floor. His dark eyes burned into hers. "Woman, where is your heart?"_

_And for a single instant, she knew the answer. It was right beneath -_

* * *

The insistent ringing of the phone pulled her abruptly from sleep. Groggily, she reached for the cellphone she had left in the purse beside her bed. It took a few more seconds before she found the pickup button and answered with a sleep clogged voice. "Hello?"

"Inoue?" came the sharp question from over the phone. "Are you alright?"

And suddenly, as she spotted the purple sticking out of her trash can, it all came crashing down on her again. "N-no," she cried into the phone, unmindful of the swift tension on the other side of the line. "I just broke Ishida-kun's heart! He was going to pro-propose and I told him no!"

A sigh emerged from the other side of the conversation and Orihime heard Kuchiki's voice assume the gentle tone she so rarely used. "Inoue, I'm sure it'll be alright. This is just a bump in the road. If he really loves you and you really love him, then it should-"

"But I don't," she sniffled into the other end. She continued when she sensed Kuchiki's confusion. "I don't love him. Not in the way he wanted. I can't, because I think – I think..." She quieted as she stared down at the bed, noting the strange imprint that seemed to be in her pillow. It looked almost like a hand, but that was impossible, right? It was probably just a trick of the light... "I'm sorry, Kuchiki-san," she continued quietly. "I don't mean to burden you with this. I'll be better tomorrow, I just need more sleep."

"I think I should come over-"

"I'll be okay," Orihime reassured her, taking the time to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand.

There was a pause at the other end, and then a long sigh emerged. "All right. But I'm bringing you breakfast tomorrow morning." Kuchiki's voice softened once again. "It'll be okay, Inoue, we're right here if you need anything."

Slowly, Orihime nodded. "I know. Thank you." After bidding her friend goodbye, she set the phone on her nightstand and then glanced back at the pillow. Gently, she laid her fingers into the grooves of the markings and thought perhaps just maybe it was a hand print. Carefully, she laid back down and curled up, keeping her hand aligned with the mark.

Sleep claimed her quickly after that and it seemed as if instantly Kuchiki was at her door, ringing the doorbell and calling through the wooden barrier. "Inoue?"

She got up with a yawn, making her way to the door to find her friend with a bag of pastries in her hands and the sun rising behind her. The short shinigami was dressed in 'street' clothes, a tank top and cute skirt with a hooded jersey.

"'Morning," Kuchiki said, smiling softly at her and hoisting the food. "I brought breakfast like I promised, so let me in."

Kuchiki turned out to be much more understanding than Orihime had thought she would be. She said that sometimes love just couldn't run both ways, no matter how much you wanted it to. As they munched on petite danishes and tarts, she told the story of her vice captain when she first entered the thirteenth squad, and Orihime learned how Kuchiki, who by this time had insisted that she call her Rukia, had fallen in love with him, even when she knew he was married, and had had to come to terms with the one sided inevitability of her love over time. Life was tough that way, she said, and that there was nothing else to do but get stronger and soldier on. Eventually it would get easier. When Orihime asked how Rukia had known something was wrong, though, the shinigami answered that there had been a sharp spike in reiatsu in the area. She said it could happen sometimes because of strong emotions, but she had wanted to make sure it wasn't something more serious when she had called. Cleaning up as they finished, she left with a few reassuring words to let Orihime get ready for work.

As she took a shower and scrubbed off the last of the makeup from yesterday's events, Orihime's thoughts went back to Rukia's reason for calling. A spike in reiatsu? She shivered as she recalled the strange hand print in her pillow. Were they related? She could have sworn her heartbeat increased just a little at the thought before remembering that she currently couldn't find her heart. With a deep breath, she forced herself to dismiss it.

* * *

_Her dreams were suspiciously empty after she had touched him in one. Oh, she would be in the same room, standing towards the window looking towards the moon. And, as ever, Ulquiorra would be behind her, watching her with intensity that she didn't have to see to know about. But he never spoke to her any more. A whole week had passed with no words to accompany the dreams. It was as if he had decided to ignore her entirely after she failed to answer his question the last time. The space where he stood was entirely hollow of his presence._

_It was as if he wasn't even there, just a haunting left behind for her to remember him by._

* * *

"Are you doing anything for Tanabata this year?" Tatsuki asked over the phone.

Orihime paused in flipping through the files beside her desk, frowning lightly into her receiver. "Not really. I was thinking about hanging a few origami up, but that's it."

The phone answered her with a huff of frustration. "The festival's on a Friday night, you should go!" A tsking went through the line. "I'm going out this afternoon to buy a yukata for the event. Did you want to come with me? We can stop and pick up some origami paper as well while we're out."

A smile crossed Orihime's face as she continued sorting through the files. She knew once she went Tatsuki would somehow find a way to get her to buy a yukata as well and then she'd be definitely going to the festival. "Okay," she replied, giving in as she found the folder she needed. She pulled it out and stood up. "When are you going?"

"I'll be at your work at four thirty," Tatsuki promised happily, and true to her word she arrived right on time, approaching Orihime's desk and pulling her best friend out from the chair. "See you later," she called to the rest of the office, waving to Orihime's boss, who smiled indulgently. He enjoyed festivals and had been happy to grant her the half hour off early for preparation shopping.

They hurried down the street together as Tatsuki checked her watch. "The store I wanted to go to closes in forty five minutes. I saw one of their displays earlier this week that I really liked, so I want to see if that have that design still in stock."

"Have you already got shoes?" Orihime asked as they waited for the intersection light to change and let them cross. "Your strap broke last year, so you'll have to replace it or get new shoes."

"Ah! That's right!" Shrugging, she led them across and down the next street. "I'll have to check when we get there. They should though. If not, we'll just stop by the department store near my apartment and pick some up." She glanced around again, then grinned. "There it is!" Grabbing Orihime's arm, she quickly began pulling them towards it, only to stop suddenly as Orihime stopped moving. Tatsuki glanced back to where the girl had dug in her heels. "What's wrong?"

Orihime was breathing shallowly, glancing back to the alleyway they had just passed. It couldn't be, could it? That glimpse of white and black, the hints of green around the eyes, surely that hadn't been...? She snapped back to attention when Tatsuki called her name.

"What's wrong?" Tatsuki asked again, growing worried and a furrow developing between her eyebrows.

"...nothing," Orihime replied after a moment. "I just thought I saw someone I knew." Someone who should be dead, her mind added. Perhaps she really was going crazy. Stubbornly she shook it off as her eyes playing tricks on her. "My mistake. Let's hurry up before the store closes," she added with a forced smile.

Tatsuki was watching her closely. "If you're still upset about Uryuu-kun... Look, I know Keigo's been a little rude recently, but he's just having association dramatics. If he can't conquer his fear and just propose to me, then it's _his_ problem. He'll be back to normal in no time."

"It's not that," Orihime reassured. "I didn't expect anyone to still be my friend after I broke up with Ishida-kun, so I'm happy that we still hang out together like this." She received Tatsuki's impulsive hug and then hurried them across the street. "Come on, the store's going to close."

It was not, she kept telling herself, to get away faster from Ulquiorra's simulacrum behind her.

* * *

_When he entered the room, she flipped to him, ignoring the moon in favor of examining her captor. It had been three nights since he had even been in attendance, and she was getting slightly worried that perhaps she would spend the rest of her evenings alone entirely. She hadn't realized how much she had grown used to his presence until it was gone and she was relieved that he hadn't yet abandoned her. The feelings both unnerved her and caused her breath to come faster in anticipation._

_'Ulquiorra,' the space between her breasts breathed, but she remained silent, watching as he moved closer._

_He was again like he normally was, in his white jacket and hakama and the soft boots that made gentle taps against the floor. His eyes met hers as he crossed the room and the green that filled her vision grew larger as he neared. "Woman," he greeted, "were you waiting for me?"_

_No answer met his inquiry, but he didn't seem to mind. Instead he moved to stand beside her and gazed up at the moon. The faint warmth that he emitted slowly permeated her sleeve and she finally forced herself to turn around and gaze with him. "It never changes here, you know. It's always full. Even though I know the moon changes shape and I know this room no longer exists, it's always exactly the same."_

_"I tested my ability to imitate that bracelet today," he said suddenly, and she felt her mind trip at his blatant non sequitur. "It was effective enough." His eyes drifted to her and the questions that were at the tip of her tongue were immediately bottled up. He seemed to be contemplating something as he stared at her, and the green that had captured her attention so thoroughly before now seemed to engulf her entirely. She was entrenched in his assessment. "Woman," he said finally, and paused._

_"Yes?" she asked in reply, unused to seeing such hesitance in him. And for some reason, she felt a need for him to finish his thought, unlike last time. Something was niggling right at the back of her mind, as if she should know something that was just beyond her reach. Orihime looked expectantly at the arrancar across from her._

_He seemed to reach a conclusion, because he continued. "Where is your heart?"_

_And it struck her like lightning again, coursing through her body on electric wires. Her brown eyes widened as she stared at him and her mouth opened to respond-!_

_Only to be swiftly stoppered as he stepped towards her and rapidly pulled her lips to his. She squeaked in surprise and he took advantage of her stillness, his hands wrapping tightly around her shoulders and pushing her firmly back and up against the wall. His mouth left hers only to allow her a brief instant in which to gasp air in and then he had returned, tilting his head as if in experiment before rejoining their liquid heat connection and completing the circuit that had lit her up in realization._

_When one of his hands left her shoulder to drift up her collarbone and press against the back of her neck, she couldn't stop the sound that flowed out of her. Her moan vibrated its way up her throat and across their lips, adding only slight resistance, unmeasurable in ohms, that increased the experience. She pushed inwards with pleasurable greed even as he pulled away, leaving her as bereft as if he had thrown a breaker._

_The only signs of disturbance he displayed were a pair of dilated pupils and the mouth that gaped just slightly, as if he wanted to suck in more air rapidly but was uncertain whether or not he should do so. His gaze sought and locked with her glazed one, and his mouth closed as his laconic expressions morphed into that serious one once again. "You will not remove that bracelet. If anyone asks, it is from your suitor."_

_It was just the faintest lick in his tone, but her eyes snapped alert upon hearing it nonetheless. She had heard it before, when he had spoke to Grimmjow in front of her and intimidated the sixth espada into banishing him to caja negación. She had thought it was because of their prey, Kurosaki, that they had fought, but perhaps, just perhaps, it had been because of her? Because that tone had resounded of possession and jealously and was just as primal and as feral as the arrancar in front of her. He leaned towards her again, and her mouth opened in anticipation only to be ignored as his lips came to rest next to her ear._

_"This is not a negotiation."_

_No, she understood, it wasn't. It was his plea to her, voiced as a command, and the condition he gave it with was his presence. If she wore his bracelet, he would be here. If she said it was from a suitor, he would act like one. Even if this was all in her imagination, even if she was crazy, she would do as he asked in her waking hours just to have him in her sleeping. Because she knew if she took the bracelet off, no matter the reason, he would not return._

_"Okay," she said softly. "_ Okay, _"she mouthed._

_After a few moments he drew back, satisfied, it seemed, with her answer. Silently, she wished he would kiss her again, but instead his left hand drifted down from her shoulder and skimmed down her arm. His light fingers briefly caressed her inner wrist, just below the bracelet, and it almost seemed more intimate than all his other actions before. Then he was pulling away, leaving her, as he walked out of the room and shut the door behind him._

_And then Orihime woke up._

* * *

"Ah, these geta are killing me!" Tatsuki moaned quietly as she leaned against the back side of a game stall. Keigo was hovering next to her anxiously as Orihime opened the small cloth purse strapped around her wrist.

"I've got some band aids in here somewhere," she said, rifling through her things before pulling out the small adhesive stickers and handing them over to her best friend. She watched with concern as Keigo helped Tatsuki hobble over to a nearby bench. "Are you sure you don't need to go home?"

"No, I'll be okay," the dark haired young woman replied, quickly shucking the sandals and sticking the bandages into place between her toes. She grimaced as she returned her feet to the shoes. "I knew I should have just gotten replacement straps, but they weren't selling any that matched my outfit."

Orihime directed a half-smile back at her friend. "You look great. I'm sure no one will notice the sandals."

Indeed, she did look good, Orihime thought. Wearing a dark blue yukata with bright pink peonies sprinkled across it. Her hair, which Orihime had helped with, was pinned up elegantly in a simple twist, and she was actually wearing makeup for once. Tatsuki's lipsticked mouth spread in a rueful smile. "Of the two of us, you certainly look more mature, with that star pattern."

Orihime's smile grew. "I like it a lot. Doesn't it make you think of Orihime and Hikoboshi?"

"I makes me think of my grandmother," Tatsuki teased with a smile, "but you look very good in it." She caught the wounded puppy look her boyfriend was giving her and sighed expressively. "And of course, you are the handsomest man, Keigo, of the entire festival."

Satisfied that his ego had been stoked, Keigo puffed his chest out and took both girls by the arm. "Only because I'm the envy of every other guy! I'll bet at least five people ask me how I managed to snag two gir-ow!" He staggered as Tatsuki elbowed him lightly but after a few annoyed grumbles was quickly back to his swaggering gait. When he spotted the others up ahead, he quickly waved and called out a loud greeting, and they were soon joined by a small crowd of people.

Both Sado and Kurosaki had chosen not to wear yukatas, instead sticking to their regular clothes, but everyone else was fashionably attired. Kojima and Arima wore matching colors, her blue violets playing off the stripes that ran down the front of his outfit, Karin and Yuzu were looking cute with their bright flowery designs, Abarai looked as if he had snagged his yukata out of the nearest bath house, as it was dark blue with a white sash and very plain, and Rukia had broken tradition entirely by wearing a pure white ensemble with embroidery at the bottom. It was a few moments before Ishida materialized beside them in a white and blue outfit, and Orihime wondered if he had hid on purpose so that she wouldn't be hesitant to join the group. He nodded to her and she gave a faint but still remorseful smile back, but other than that they did not interact much at all. It broke Orihime's heart to think it might takes years if not a lifetime to return to the strong friendship they had once shared.

"What have you guys done so far?" Kurosaki asked as he looked towards Keigo. He held two small stuffed bears in his arms and Orihime assumed that he must have won them from a stall for his sisters, who were each currently snacking on some takoyaki.

Keigo waved back at the way they had come. "Not much. Caught a few goldfish, and Tatsuki demolished the shooting range, but we haven't really gotten past the first row of games."

After discussing it for a short while, they decided to head down towards the food stalls, since most of the group hadn't eaten yet, and Orihime fell into step beside Rukia and Abarai. As the back of the group, they didn't have to fight their way through the crowds and instead walked placidly a few feet behind the rest of the group. The tall red head glanced down at her curiously as they passed a small fortune telling booth.

"What's that thing on your arm?"

Startled, Orihime looked up at him, then back down at her wrist. Sparkling in the various lights was the golden bracelet. Even Rukia looked interested as she gazed at it when Orihime raised it for inspection.

A small frown crossed her face. "It looks vaguely like something out of Soul Society." Her inquisitive dark eyes darted up to meet Orihime's. "Where did you get it?"

"My...my boyfriend gave it to me."

Rukia's eyebrows went up. "From Ishida?"

Slowly, the taller woman shook her head, wondering just how she was going to explain this if Rukia pushed further. Instead, she leapt almost a foot in the air as a large hand patted her on the back.

"Already back on the dating scene, eh?" Abarai asked, looking down at her with approval. "Best way to cure a broken heart. I keep telling Rukia to tell her brother that, but it's always 'Hisana this, onee-chan that.'"

"Idiot!" Rukia roared as she plowed her foot into Abarai's gut. He grunted but remained standing, and Orihime admired his strength. "Shut up, Renji! My onee-chan was a wonderful woman and there's no way onii-sama could ever replace her!"

Abarai glanced back at Orihime and wiggled his eyebrows in a way that seemed to say 'See?' but placated the shorter shinigami with apologies and a promise to win her the biggest bunny rabbit toy he could find at the festival. Orihime smiled as they continued bickering over the acceptable size of the rabbit.

The rest of the event passed peacefully enough, with Sado managing to win a prize in the arm wrestling contest and with Abarai's promise fulfilled at the eating contest. He clutched his stomach in pain at the end of it but faithfully handed over his prize. They parted after the fireworks, everyone calling their goodbyes as they broke up into smaller groups.

Keigo and Tatsuki left Orihime at the corner turn to her apartment, waving as they continued on to the bus stop that would take them home. Before they turned out of sight, Orihime watched Keigo pull her best friend in tight and whisper something in her ear, and Orihime dearly hoped that he managed to work past whatever proposal fear he'd developed in the past few weeks and ask Tatsuki to marry him once and for all. They would be so happy.

Sighing, the young woman entered her dark apartment and kicked off her shoes before making her way back to the bathroom. She smiled at her reflection one more time before removing the yukata and wiping off her makeup. After a quick shower she was crawling into bed, feeling exhaustion begin to overwhelm her lingering anticipation. Within minutes she was asleep.

* * *

_"Woman." The voice was insistent in her ear, and she glanced over her shoulder to look at Ulquiorra. His green eyes were every bit as intense as the night before and she felt herself lingering in her quick questioning glance._

_The eyes remained calm even as she turned quizzical. "Wake up," he commanded, tone firm._

_"What are you talking about?" she asked in reply, now fully twisting to face him. The moonlight framed his face as she tilted her head ever so slightly back. "Do you want me to leave?"_

_"Wake up," he repeated, and Orihime watched his clear lit features slowly dissolve into_ those that were shadowed from the light coming in through her bedroom window. He was leaning slightly over her on the bed and looking down, the horn twisting delicately up from the helmeted side of his head and glowing faintly in the street light.

"I'm dreaming," Orihime said quietly, feeling the sheets shift softly as gazed back at him.

"No," Ulquiorra answered, stoic, his eyes following her arm down to the wrist she had thrown over her stomach in her sleep.

"I'm crazy," she whispered as his fingers moved to trace the golden band.

"You're not," he asserted. After a moment, the fingers stopped dancing over her wrist and withdrew and Orihime pushed herself upright at their loss.

She watched Ulquiorra take a step back with her movement and then sit down at the end of her bed, his limbs folding with an almost lazy preciseness that dictated his every motion. The green eyes never left her face as he settled. Slowly, carefully, Orihime examined his fingers, whole, his torso, there, and his leg, attached, and lifted her face back to his. "How?"

"Regeneration of internal organs is not instantaneous. In battle it is impossible. It takes time and determination." He tilted his head slightly as he looked at her. "I have had both."

She processed this, knew that she would never understand fully how he had gone from ash and dust to hollow once more, would never want to know what he had suffered to do so, and let it go. Instead she continued. "You left Las Noches?"

A chill rushed through the air and she felt, rather than saw, a crack appear between her and the door. "It is not difficult." With alacrity, the fracture sealed itself up again. "Unlike Aizen, Starrk does not care what the Espada do as long as they do not completely destroy order."

An image of the lethargic arrancar came to mind at his words, though Orihime had only spent a brief time in the company of the new leader of Las Noches. Ulquiorra's voice seemed to convey a faint mix of both respect and disapproval for the hollow. She watched as he shifted slightly on her bed into a more comfortable spot, avoiding her legs. "Why?" she finished, nervous and breathless all at once.

"Woman," he said instead, "where is your heart?"

And carefully, oh so carefully, as if afraid to scare him away, she brought her knees up under her and leaned forward, letting her hand trail up to rest against the center of his chest. "It's right here." Turned into dust and reformed with one arrancar, one hollow, one man that she loved.

He had looked down with her movement and after she spoke he let his hand come up to rest on top of hers, black fingernails providing stark contrast against her skin. "I see," he said neutrally.

The heart that resided below her hand but communicated directly into her chest gave a few unsettled bumps. She took a chance when his hand did not remove itself from hers. "Where's yours?"

Green eyes met her own within an instant, and Orihime held her breath, afraid that she had made a mistake and that he would stand up with some cold words on how they were different, night and day, hollow and human, and therefore she should not equate them at all, anatomically or otherwise. But he remained seated and his gaze shifted to her chest with faint curiosity.

"You're human," Ulquiorra said simply. "Could you survive without a heart?"

Orihime remained still for a moment, stunned by the beautiful simplicity of it, and wondered just how long she had been living by someone else's heartbeats, and if hers were what had brought him back to her. As she let the soft smile spread across her face, she also realized why it had been Hueco Mundo that she had dreamt about. ' _When you both care for each other, your hearts are able to draw a little closer together._ ' And they had met continually, where her memories of him were the strongest.

"This will be difficult," she said shakily, not moving her hand and scooting closer, the blankets bunching up around her legs as she pressed her thighs against his.

"Yes," he agreed calmly, letting his fingers drift slightly down to rub against the bracelet.

Fighting a shiver that was not from fear or cold, Orihime continued determinedly. "But I was told that we'll just have to get stronger and keep going. Eventually it will become easier."

"All things decrease in difficulty with work." The fingers at her wrist kept sliding back and forth without a break in rhythm.

Tremulously, Orihime wet her lips. "Do... do you think I might kiss you?"

Before she could move forward, his right hand slid behind her neck and tugged her firmly forward. Both of her palms braced themselves against his chest as he plundered the depths of the electricity between them, exploring her lips with his own until she thought she would go mad from electrocution. The fingers at her neck eased her back as he straightened. He looked at her with contemplative eyes. "Do you wish to see the world you destroyed?"

She drew back, happy expression slipping. "That's a cruel thing to say."

"All things can be cruel, including humans," Ulquiorra said, watching the sad acceptance grow in her eyes. A soft exhalation wafted past the strands of hair near her cheek and she felt the fingers at her wrist begin moving again in silent comfort.

Looking up at him, this arrancar who had denounced her ideals and then defended Ishida and she from an inhuman Kurosaki, Orihime knew that the opposite was also true. All things could be kind, including hollows. After a few moments watching his eyes, intent on hers, she nodded. "Alright." She had no fear of what she would encounter there, he would protect her without fail, and there were a couple of things she had actually enjoyed in Los Noches. The moon had been one of them.

Without a word he pulled her to her feet, and in another moment they were standing in the setting of her frequent nighttime visits, a soft lunar glow illuminating the bare quarters.

Only this time, Orihime thought, as she smiled at Ulquiorra, who led her to the exit and out into the corridor, it was not a dream.

* * *

_Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life._

\- " _Book of Common Prayer_ ", 1662.


End file.
